


Maybe it's all part of a plan

by Whiskerin



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Attempt at Humor, Daichi has very bad luck, Fluff, Kuroo's a troublemaker, M/M, Romance, and is also a huge lovebirb, basically nothing happens so beware, genderfluid!Akaashi, rated mature for mild swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 23:05:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3914017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whiskerin/pseuds/Whiskerin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically it's just daisugas slow dancing, Kuroo being an asshole, Bokuto hooting.<br/>Nothing new.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe it's all part of a plan

**Author's Note:**

> Sup! This is my first work here on AO3 and yep, I'm bringing you volleydorks, yaaay-  
> I've been working on this fic for a few weeks since English is not my native language, but I really hope this will be pleasant enough for y'all. Enjoy uvu
> 
> (About Akaashi's genderfluidity: since I'm not genderfluid I can't fully understand how that feels and how you're supposed to deal with it, and even though I've tried to document myself I really hope I got it right. Also I chose to use he/him pronouns because in my headcanon Akaashi is just a really pretty boy who likes feeling girly. I apologize for any inconvenience/misunderstanding.)

Honestly, there aren’t a lot of things that could embarrass Daichi in this world. He's a man of dignity and willpower, who struggles on a daily basis with a self-complacent asshole that sadly happens to be his roommate as he makes his way into his college life, gritting his teeth and breaking way more pencils than necessary, but keeping his head high and usually holding a medium frappuccino to-go in his right hand.  
  
That’s what he likes to think, anyway.  
  
That day, though, turns out to be truly unfortunate –and embarrassing. Days of that kind seem to roll around more often, lately. Daichi stares at Kuroo, any kind of emotion gone from his heart a long ago, while his friend rants about how he and his bro for life could become his official love counselors for that matter because _“dude you're gonna end up dying without getting laid and we have to do something about that”_.  
  
Daichi exhibits in a tired facepalm, rubbing his eye sockets. Why did he ask that guy for help? Look at him, dumbly giving himself handshakes and spitting wise sentences as if he’s some Confucius dude or something. Sometimes, Daichi wonders about Kenma’s secrets not to let his boyfriend get on his nerves. He should really have a nice conversation with the pudding head because Kenma’s like a zen master, and Kuroo’s fucking intense to begin with.  
  
And he’s a douchebag, like, a douchebag of first category. He has this bad habit of leaving his litter around (Daichi had to breathe calmly for five minutes straight when he stepped for the sixth time on a pair of boxers Kuroo _accidentally_ forgot in Daichi’s side of their flat), he likes to throw crazy parties with shitty commercial music and still doesn't know how to do his laundry (see the Boxers Incident).  
  
Kuroo always likes to indulge in his best qualities, saying he's generous, friendly and every nice thing in this universe, besides being a very good-looking sex god, when instead he's just a sarcastic, smug-faced idiot with a weird obsession with cats.  
  
_What have I gotten myself into?  
  
_  
  
Daichi groans for the umpteenth time since the beginning of their debate and leans over their common working table, face still buried in his hands, unable to glare at the black-haired boy anymore. He could clearly hear the vacuum-like sound of all his pride and self confidence being swallowed up by his foolishness, not to be seen anywhere soon. It’s not like he needed them, anyway.  
  
As hell does he want to show any sign of weakness before Kuroo, who looks like he's having the time of his life, mocking him and calling him awkward names while telling him not to worry about a thing, because he has everything settled.  
_Thank you, Kuroo. Really helpful.  
_  
The fact is, their conversation didn’t go exactly the way Daichi wanted to.  
It didn't even start properly, to be honest. Daichi curses his tongue for twisting and knotting and making his owner unable to formulate any intelligible sentence, making him look like a brain-damaged monkey. But then again, Daichi considers himself mentally retarded, and he's slowly acknowledging it as he gets older and, presumably, wiser.  
  
Apparently not enough to realize that the party is in a week and that Sugawara could already be going with some pretty girl, though.  
  
Life is brutal on the good guys.  
  
  
  
“Kuroo, _dammit!_ ”  
Kuroo's laughing so hard he's basically wheezing his lungs out of his nostrils. _Yeah, go ahead and enjoy your life while you can, you asshol_ e, Daichi thinks bitterly as he crumples a random paper sheet and throws it at him, _because this may be the last time I hear your awful laughter._  
“Oh man, you’re hopeless!”  
“What! I just asked for advice!”  
  
Kuroo shrugs, slowly regaining a bit of composure as he straightens his back. “I’m sorry, man, but there’s no way I can save your sorry ass again.”  
“What was that ‘again’ for?” Daichi complains, feeling hysteria rising in his throat from having to deal with that jerk 24/7. “Just so you know, I could've totally handled that crazed cat on the back alley. I didn’t need your help. I was doing great.”  
Kuroo’s thin pupils dart to Daichi’s shin, were red scratches are still visible under his pants leg from that unlucky encounter. “Yep, totally great.”  
  
Daichi shifts in his chair and sits on his ankle, hiding incriminating evidence from Kuroo’s inhuman eyesight. “It was possessed, I tell you. A spawn of Satan!”  
Another snort comes from Kuroo. “Oh, how the tables have turned.” The boy shakes his messy head, pleased with himself. “You don't have to thank me, we both know I already have your eternal gratitude.” He takes a moment to look at Daichi, and when he’s sure he’s got all of his attention he flaunts again that irritating smile. “Really, I’m so kind.”  
“Shut up, you moron.” Daichi flips him off and proceeds to pick up his black pen. “Leave me alone, I need to study.”  
  
He almost expects another slur of egocentric-offensive stuff, but when Kuroo keeps oddly quiet, Daichi feels his neck muscles relaxing and a wave of relief washing through him. _God bless, he really shut u_ p.  
Daichi glances in his direction in disbelief, still unable to believe his luck. Kuroo is bent over his chaotic notes and doesn't make a sound, as if his batteries need to be changed.  
It’s not suspicious; it’s super suspicious, but Daichi hasn’t any strength left to care. He cracks his neck joints and immediately imitates him: maybe he could really manage to go over his Calculus homework once again before dinner time rolls around.  
  
  
  
Three minutes later Kuroo closes his Biology book and yawns noisily, making him jump in his chair.  
Daichi braces himself.  
_No, no no no nonono-_  
  
“Aaaaaanyway, I totally think you should ask Suga out.” Goes Kuroo's singsong voice. "Believe me, you'll make me a golden statue when you manage to get in his pants."  
  
Daichi almost chokes with his own saliva, feeling his cheek tingling with warmth. He lowers his gaze again, feeling stupid, as his mouth opens and closes like a gaping fish while trying to put a bunch of words together. He’s descending the evolution scale at an incredibly fast rate and can’t even keep up a conversation with his roommate. _What a shitty life._  
  
“I can’t- I can’t just ask him like that. ”  
“Why not?” Kuroo inquires. When he closes his notebook with cat doodles on the cover and stands up to sit on the table, right in front of Daichi and _exactly_ on his essay, the latter throws up his arms in exasperation and surrenders to forces of nature clearly greater than him.  
“Move, there are all my tears and blood in that thing.” Daichi grumbles.  
Kuroo hums contently and wiggles his ass on the papers. Daichi has to push him away with brute force to snatch his paperwork from under him, muttering something along the lines of _you impudent bitch._  
  
“It’s easy, really." Kuroo says confidently, now perched on his cheap plastic chair, "I mean, look at me: I’m going with Kenma, and I’m still alive and breathing.”  
“Kuroo, you two got together last year.” Daichi says, rolling his eyes. He busies himself in gathering his college supplies as an excuse to have his eyes occupied in something else. "You're cheating, and my reputation's on the line here."  
Moving swiftly and gracefully, Kuroo grabs his shoulders and looks at him dead in the eyes. “But still- You can do it, man. I believe in you. The party is next Saturday, you gotta move and get your date before anyone else does. You don’t want that, do you?”  
  
After Kuroo's encouraging speech, if that’s what it was supposed to be, Daichi's head gradually sinks until he's staring at the table with blank eyes.  
_Oh… right._  
How in the world did his Theatre teacher come up with such a ridiculous idea, anyway? An old style ball, like, for couples? Seriously? And why does he have to attend? Because maybe he wants to dance with Suga? Well that’s _damn right_. He _has_ to go with him. It’s vital.  
  
Daichi sinks deeper in his seat. There are… a lot of people out there, lots of strangers who in a week time span could be dancing with sweet, sweet Suga, laughing with him, holding him in their arms as they gently moved to the sound of the music and everyone stared, amazed by their dancing skills but probably just because of Suga’s angelic appearance.  
  
“…”  
  
_It might be already too late_ , Daichi thinks.  
  
Kuroo's eyes grow wide with harsh, dreadful realization. A faint “oh no you don’t” escapes his mouth, and the moment they look at each other again they both know that Sawamura Daichi is officially fucked.  
  
°°°°°  
  
Everyone has their weak points, and Physics is something Sugawara Koushi can't quite wrap his head around. It's not like he has bad grades, he _is_ one of the best students in the whole campus after all. He’s pretty proud of it, too: when he’s not busy in his part-time job at the volunteering center he can earn his living by tutoring younger students who have difficulties with their courses. Although he never skips a lesson and often pulls long all-nighters of caffeine, all those theorems and formulas always like to give him a hard time, especially when he's trying to remember them with a class test looming on his sanity.  
  
As he chews absentmindedly on his pencil's eraser he wonders if it is the case for him to cut on relaxing evenings watching movies with Yaku, the friendly neighbor that always has to knock on his door with his foot because every time his arms are full of snacks, chips and other very healthy items, in order to get more study time. He doesn't want to fail in his classes. He’s about to give his second year final exams, and if he made it this far he surely can go further.  
  
Suga tries to tune out the cheerful noise of students leaving the building, hunting for a good lunch in one of the bars and restaurants scattered around the campus. He’d love to stay in that classroom, he came earlier and chose a seat near enough to the window for the sun to seep in and make him feel dizzy and pleasantly sleepy. He closes his pen with a snap and thinks that he probably should look for a quieter place, if he really wants to get some productive stuff done.  
  
Just as he's about to grab his backpack and move away from the deafening crowd that’s occupying the aisles between the desks he’s greeted by Akaashi, one of his best buds from Literature class. The raven-haired boy approaches him with his brows furrowed, his usually calm pace being somewhat accelerated for some reason, but graceful nonetheless.  
  
“Hey, Akaashi!” Suga waves in his direction, with his good-natured signature grin spreading across his face. He momentarily forgets about all his problems with Physics. It has been a long morning, and he’d totally use a pleasant  distraction at the moment. “Today’s lesson was tiring, wasn’t it? So, what’s up?”  
  
Akaashi looks around for a second, batting his long, gracious eyelashes a few times before turning to him and shrugging. "Nothing much, really. Just heading home to finish that paperwork we’ve been assigned last week."  
“Really? It looks like you're being chased instead.” Suga chuckles. “Don't tell me Bokuto's at it again.” He then says jokingly. He knows about Bokuto’s antics. You must have a never ending stock of energy to deal with that weird guy.  
  
“…”  
After another few seconds of hesitation, Akaashi meekly nods. Just by looking at his facial expression Suga can sense his burning desire to quit everything, and throw his shoes at Bokuto. Suga's eyes grow wide with both incredulity and pity for the poor boy in front of him. _Must be hard. I feel you._  
  
“Did I guess right?! Oh wow, condolences.” Suga deflates.  
“Hmm.” Akaashi takes a moment to get sure his bag is securely closed. “Since he's heard of that dancing party from the crazy teacher he's been following me everywhere and trying to get me to go. He's seriously worse than a baby.” He sighs. “It's exhausting.”  
  
“Hmmm. Well, why don’t we have a walk around in the meanwhile? It can help us clear our thoughts and maybe find a solution.” Suga proposes, gesturing towards the hall with a kind smile. Akaashi nods. It's an old habit of their, walking around after classes and sharing the latest gossips. It gives Suga a nice, relaxing feeling.  
  
  
  
“That's so sweet of him, Akaashi.” Suga affirms dreamily after various minutes of extreme mumbling from both parties, “If I were you, I wouldn't let this chance slip.”  
Akaashi bites his lower lip. Worry crosses his face and is gone as soon as it appeared. “I don't like parties. I don't even know how to dance.”  
“But that's irrelevant!” Suga stops in his tracks and turns to his friend. He notices he’d been a bit harsh, so he smothers Akaashi's cardigan like a mom would do to her child. “It's just some kind of prom, but on a little scale…? And I think there won't be many loud songs or annoying people, anyway.” He adds in a gentler voice. He can't help but smile a little when he notices relief washing over Akaashi's face.  
“I see.”  
“And Bokuto... He's head over heels for you, my boy.” Suga tilts his head, his lips curving with tender pride for his friend, “You should totally go with him- oh! Maybe you could wear that cute dress we bought the other day?”  
  
“Oh.”  
Akaashi fiddles nervously with his phone strap, a tiny brownish owl with big, sparkling eyes. It was Bokuto himself that gave it to him, saying he bought it because it was pretty and reminded him of Akaashi. That embarrassing idiot. He accepted it.  
“Maybe.” He mumbles, thoughtfully.  
  
That dress, huh… Akaashi’s thought take off. He'd realized that he couldn't quite fit in the traditional 'male' category long ago, and he's okay with that. It isn’t like he had any interest in finding out what his gender or sexual orientation was when he was a kid, anyway, and now that he’s come to terms with it he lets it slide. It’s not that problematic, just a spiritual expansion of his inner self, in a way.  
  
Thankfully he doesn't have to keep it a secret. Bokuto is already aware of his situation, even though it had been difficult to gather the courage and speak to him about that topic. But it was totally worth it. Many times Akaashi had found himself involuntarily blushing when Bokuto complimented him for his nice looks or his brand new skirt, or when he came by his house early in the morning and threw pebbles at his window while making hooting noises, asking if he felt like going for some shopping. He is grateful for Bokuto's simple-mindedness, in that sense.  
  
Furthermore, Akaashi knows he can rely on Suga whenever he feels like going out and buy a pair of pretty shoes (Suga has seriously some impressive sense of fashion) or just having a nice walk around the park, not having to deal with confusing things such as his gender identity. Suga is really a precious friend for him. Akaashi knows he could never thank him enough to be there when he feels like an abnormal freak.  
  
Generally speaking he’s comfortable enough with waking up and often feeling like he should’ve been born as a girl, but talking about this genderfluid topic is still a bit hard for him. Suga doesn't seem to care, though, as he pats his back and urges him gently towards the cafeteria. He never seems to be bothered by any of that, always taking in everything with a big smile. _Thank goodness._  
  
“It's ok to be desirable- just don't break his heart, or he might stay dejected for the rest of his life.” Suga suggests, winking.  
Akaashi chuckles slightly. “For half a minute, you mean?”  
“Ehh, that.”  
  
The both of them stay silent for a while, then burst out laughing in the corridor. “I'll give it some thought.” Akaashi nods.  
Suga grins and hits him cheerfully on his arm. “All righty! Since you have such a persistent and attractive stalker, lunch's on me today.”  
“I don't see how the two things are related but, okay.” Akaashi looks at him and smiles slightly, the edges of his charming lips curving a bit upward, and it's such a rare view that boosts Suga's morale even higher. “Thanks.”  
  
Suga's smile grows wider, if possible. He very well knows that someone as introverted as Akaashi wouldn't lose their poker face that easily just for thanking him for his free lunch offer. “No big deal~” He chirps.  
  
  
  
His day has suddenly taken an inexplicable yet pleasant turn for the better, and when a delicious smell of food reaches his nostrils Suga is seriously considering singing the hallelujah to thank whatever deity is currently standing above him. He quickly approaches the end of the corridor, ready to put an end to the low gurgle coming from his stomach, and grabs the handle.  
  
The moment he pushes, the door to the cafeteria slams into his face. Suga’s vision goes black for a second, and then blurry, as if fog’s descended around his head. He could swear what he sees are physics formulae twinkling in front of his eyes when he ends up on the floor with a confused expression, and aching butt and a bleeding nose.  
  
°°°°°  
  
It seems like the Lucky Goddess has chosen to take Daichi in antipathy for the next twenty years, approximately.  
  
At 1.00 pm, he and Kuroo are flying down the stairs (well, Kuroo is) to retrieve Kenma from his Astronomy class. The first year is busy typing away at his phone, per usual, slender back resting against the window and blonde hair catching and reflecting the sunlight. Daichi has to stop Kuroo with all his physical and spiritual strength from picking up Kenma bridal style and carrying him around the college like that.  
  
On their way to the cafeteria, Kuroo begins singing cheesy love songs intentionally off-key while orbiting around the shorter boy, who checks his smartphone every two seconds and radiates a feeling of not giving a damn about his boyfriend's questionable singing talents, or his awkward queen bee behavior. Daichi envies him a lot. It takes a lot of training and patience to endure Kuroo in his best moments, let alone the worst.  
  
The trio enters the crowded cafeteria, looking for a table that’s big enough for the three of them to have lunch. Daichi is tired, physically and mentally, but he’s glad he’s about to fill his stomach, even with those awful meals they serve there. Just as he thinks that his day could only go for the better, his ears shake violently with the sound of a boisterous voice he knows too damn well. _Please be everyone but him. Please._  
  
“Hey hey heeey! How you doing?”  
Kuroo lights up like a Christmas tree and exchanges a bump fist with the guy that just joined them. “Yo, Bokuto.” He grins, “'sup, man?”   
The boy with weird colored hair puts his hands on his hips and raises his head like he's won a 'Best Megaphone of the Year' award and he’s damn proud of it. “I was on my way here lookin' for Akaashi, bro, but he disappeared! Like, I can't find him anywhere!”  
“That's awful.” Kuroo snorts, sneaking an arm around a very disinterested Kenma. “Tell me more, would ya?”  
  
While Bokuto wails about how many miles he went for Akaashi, searching in every angle of the campus, they spot a table near the entrance and quickly scramble to get it booked.  
When they succeed, Kuroo and Bokuto gloating like eight years old brats, Daichi falls heavily on his chair and allows his bag on the dirty floor with a heavy sigh. Kenma sympathetically meets his gaze before returning his attention to his phone. Daichi feels relieved, knowing he’s not alone in that insane carousel.  
  
  
  
“...and I could've sworn it was him, but he wasn't anywhere in sight! Then I saw you guys and I thought.” Bokuto slams his open palm on the table so hard that a dozen of students turn in his direction, dramatic seriousness his amber eyes. “If there's Sawamura, there's Sugawara, and if there's Sugawara, there's Akaashi! Whoa I’m clever.” He then adds quietly, as if he couldn’t believe it himself.  
Kuroo snickers. “You got it wrong, man.”  
  
“...what.” Daichi doesn't even know how the hell he is supposed to endure those two idiots for another few years. He's already so done. “Hey, wait, what did I do to be involved in your crazy rants?” He complains grumpily, wishing they could just pick something to eat. He's starving.  
Bokuto blinks, dumbfounded. “You should care more about your boyfriend, that's kinda rude of you.”  
  
_Oh God kill me._  
  
Daichi's ears slowly go through various hues of red, darker with every second passing. Kuroo's sudden jeering rings between them, so annoying that even Kenma looks away from his phone and pinches his jerk boyfriend on his thigh to make him stop. Daichi's glad that at least one of them is having fun.  
  
“Uh? You saying he's not your boyfriend yet?” Bokuto quirks his eyebrows so high that they almost reach the ceiling. He looks at Kuroo, desperately looking for answers his comrade doesn’t hesitate to give.  
“Nah, bro, he's not even invited him to the party.” Kuroo fires a nasty look towards Daichi. “What a failure, Sawamura, you're a shame.”  
  
Daichi, whose ears are now the shade of ripe tomatoes, stands up in half a second and dismisses himself momentarily, saying he has to go to the bathroom. He tries to dodge as many students as possible as quickly as possible, even though he can still ear Bokuto and Kuroo whooping and yelling embarrassing things at him, like “Sawamura on booty-hunt!” and  “Go get ‘im, tiger!”.  
His already distressed ego shrinks with every amused stare he gets, and he can't believe he's finally reached the door as he swings it open as fast as he can so he can flee from the mocking crowd and disappear in the bowels of the earth.  
   
What he doesn’t expect is a painful moan coming from the other side.  
  
He gasps and peeks from the door, alarmed because fuck he _does_ know that voice. He knows it very well. When he manage to see through, Daichi pales so much he could faint from blood draining, but he doesn’t, and he internally swears because he would avoid a lot of problems and responsibilities if he did.  
In front of him, a frantic Akaashi Keiji is currently fumbling with his bag looking for clean tissues, while on the floor Sugawara Koushi is holding his bleeding nose with both hands.

  


Daichi is so. _So. Fucked._  
  
°°°°°  
  
Somehow the number of people involved in Daichi’s unfortunate life multiply, and they all end up eating and laughing (and internally crying, in Daichi's case) around the cramped cafeteria table that was supposed to host only two human beings. Suga is keeping his nose closed, a bunch of red tissues in front of him but giggling along nonetheless, and Daichi just wants to bury himself and die horribly and agonizingly.  
  
He has slammed a door on his crush's face full force. He may as well pack his things up and take a one-way plane ticket for Australia. Daichi sinks in his chair, feeling like sobbing his way until there. Maybe if he goes a kangaroo will punch him and fuck him up badly because that's what he deserves and _oh man_ he messed up again. Why, just. _Why._  
  
Suga’s mom radar intercepts his gloomy aura. He flicks his forehead playfully. “It's not a ER case, if you're wondering.”  
Daichi opens his mouth to blurt another string of apologies but he's stopped by Suga, who grabs his cheeks lightning quick with his free hand and squeezes hard. The silver-haired boy’s gaze is serious, even though the moment is ruined by him pushing a clean tissue against his nostrils and tossing the dirty one into the heap. “Stoooop worrying about me, I'm fine.”  
  
Daichi’s mood drops under his shoes as he catches a glimpse of Suga’s swollen nose between the exchange of tissues. “You're bleeding.” He dumbly states the obvious, shame hitting him like a brick. “I’m so sorry I hurt you.”  
Suga wipes his hands, now considerably less red than before, and smiles warmly at him from under the tissue. “Well, you couldn’t have known there was someone there. It’s not your fault. Stop blaming yourself.”  
  
After years of friendship, Daichi seems to be still vulnerable to Suga's smiles. His insides feel like  
jelly as he does his best to ignore Kuroo's knowing sneer. _He’s a legit angel._  
  
“Daichi.” Suga sighs, touching the taller boy's arm, "Seriously, do you see any doctors here? An ambulance? No? That's because I'm fine. A-okay! Trust me."  
Daichi's heart leaps into his chest. How can Suga be so pretty and caring, even with his face smudged with dry blood? He could murder ten people and get away with it because of that smile.  
  
“I- You know I trust you.” Daichi murmurs, looking at his own tense, clenched fists under the table. Suga seems to notice too and casually slides his hand down, leaving it rest on Daichi's wrist and throwing reassuring glances in his direction. Daichi forces himself to smile, and thankfully it comes easier than he'd expected. “I’m really sorry though.”  
  
  
  
“Hey, would you two stop flirting? We're in public.” Kuroo breaks their little bubble of coziness, munching on his tuna sandwich lazily. “If you promise I won’t catch you in compromising positions, you can borrow Daichi’s room. I won’t be back for a few hours today.”  
At that statement, both Daichi and Suga move abruptly aside as if electrocuted, much to Kuroo's twisted sense of entertainment. “Wow, that was some quality feedback.” He snorts.  
  
Daichi flushes a deep red and opens his mouth, wanting to come up with a particularly snippy remark to save his pride (or at least what's left of it) when Bokuto decides to butt in, flashing a huge Cheshire grin. “You lovebirds are too much, really hope to see you Saturday night!” He exclaims, elbowing Kuroo in the ribs, “Eh, bro?”  
  
Kuroo shakes his head. deliberately slowly and dramatically. He's now sipping apple juice as if it was refined British tea, the bicolor straw hanging from his lips as he speaks. “Give up, man, they're so frickin’ dense. He still hasn't asked Sug-”  
  
Daichi’s legs spring into action and thrust him on his feet, violently pushing his chair back. Ignoring the five set of eyes focused on him, he glares at Kuroo with wrath in his mouth. The latter seems to be caught off guard, since his eyes are wide open in shock. Probably wondering where the hell the calm, patient, friendly Daichi he knows disappeared to.  
  
_This needs to stop._ Daichi has enough of this bullshit. Daichi here, Daichi there, he didn't sign for his secret crush to be spread and talked about like it's everyone business. Especially not when said crush is gawking at him like he's some kind of tentacle monster about to eat a child.  
“Okay, I still have to, but that's my problem.” Daichi snaps, “Are you planning to do something about it or keep whining about my private life until I die?”  
“Oho?” Kuroo's eyes glint. He can recognize a bet when he sees one, and he’s always been good at games, too. “And when did you plan to do it, exactly?”  
  
Now, everyone at the table has moved their attention to the pair arguing. Daichi lifts his head fiercely, and with a sparkle of courage igniting his endless stupidity, he reciprocates Kuroo's self-confident expression with a scornful smile. “Now.”  
  
When Daichi crosses eyes with Suga, who's still gaping at him like he’s forgotten how to breath, the silver-haired boy’s head jerk upwards in alarm. “Daichi, what's happening here?” He asks, furrowing his brows, “Are you feeling well? Did you hit your head?”  
“I wish.” is Daichi immediate response. His inner self is screaming for help, but if he chickens out of this one now, Kuroo'll never let him live a peaceful, respectable life. He tries to get a hold of  himself by resting his hand on top of the table and glancing away for a second. “Suga, I was wondering if you, uh...”  
  
Suga blinks and looks at Akaashi, dumbfounded. His friend silently nods, like he knows what's going on. _What, Akaashi? Tell me!_  
“I mean... If... Er.” Suga returns his attention on Daichi, who is stumbling in his own words. _He's kinda cute, spluttering like that._ “Wait, let me say it again-“  
  
“Daichi, I need you to breathe every once in a while, or you'll hyperventilate.” Suga kindly suggests. At this point, he’s sort of concerned about his friend’s vital signs. It’s distressing. _Could it be Daichi has fever? He looks so red._  
“I know, I'm breathing-“ Daichi retorts. No he's not, he's gasping for air actually, but he continues nonetheless. “I was wondering if you'd like to go tothepartywithme!”  
  
Even though his words really _did_ come out as a confusing, awkward blurt at the end, Suga’s brain registers every inflection and hint of emotion in Daichi’s voice, like how it almost cracked before Daichi took in a deep breath and stopped, looking embarrassed and out of place.  
Suga sits there in bewilderment. He wasn't hoping for this to happen at all but _damn_ is he flattered.  
  
"Yep."  
Daichi's head perks up. "Uh?"  
"Yeah. I'll go with you." Suga pats him on the back gingerly. He hopes Daichi won't notice his hand is trembling a bit. "So now have a seat and finish your meal properly." He orders, shrugging it off like he's not amazed by Daichi's charming bravery and how his voice took a lower pitch while talking and how his very attractive muscles clenched as he spoke vividly. Like, not at all.  
  
Daichi feels his energies leaving him and plops again on his chair. He did it. He would shake hands with himself and lick his elbows, if he could. "Yes." He manages to mumble.  
The rest of his friends laugh, but it all fades and blends with the background cafeteria noises. He doesn't really care. His heart is beating a mile per hour, and his brain can't stop dancing the lambada.  
He's going with Suga. He has a date. _This is a date, right?_  
  
“There my boy, was it that difficult?” Kuroo smirks.  
“Please Kuroo, refrain from making any unnecessary accusation.” Akaashi steps in, twirling a lock of hair around his right index finger. “It was very audacious for Daichi to make the first move, don’t rub it in.”  
  
“Ehhh, okay okay.” Kuroo stretches, moaning tiredly, and then stands up. His hand goes lying on top of  Kenma's head, who’s poking at his food with a fork. “O'right, now my duty's over and it's time to go. Wanna get some ice-cream, babe?” He asks his boyfriend, leaning down to get on his eye level and kissing him on his right temple.  
  
Kenma shakes his head and leans slightly into his touch like a little fluffy cat. “Take me home, I wanna sleep.”  
“Yes, cuddles~” The taller boy quietly cheers and runs his fingers through Kenma's disheveled hair, gently. He then grabs their bags and hangs them on his muscular shoulder, taking Kenma’s chair and helping him standing on his feet. “Aye aye sir~ See ya'll losers tomorrow.”  
   
“See you soon, bro!!” Bokuto jumps from where he's sitting and exchanges a few fist bumps with his platonic soul mate, following some light kicks and a series of weird gestures that are supposed to be cool and very bro-like.  
  
Kenma and Akaashi look at each other, drained from all their vital energies, as Bokuto keeps hollering and waving in the pair’s direction. Kenma follows his boyfriend with tiny steps, while Akaashi inhales huge quantities of air to force himself not to grab Bokuto's absurd hair and slam his enthusiastic, brainless head against the table to make him shut up.  
  
°°°°°  
  
The corridors are eerily empty when they decide to finally head home, since afternoon classes already started and there’s nowhere in sight, apart from a few teachers scattered around the building minding their own business. Daichi walks comfortably with Suga, or at least he tries to convince himself that yeah, he’s totally cool with all of this and he’s totally not tense or scared to screw up.  
  
His nerves are literally killing him from inside, okay. Now that he found the guts to ask that beauty that is Suga he wonders why did he feel obliged to do it in the first place. The answer comes quicker than a kick in the guts: he likes him, even though he’s well aware that his stupid one-sided crush could turn into a total disaster.  
  
Daichi bites the inner part of his cheek as Suga talks about this great superhero TV-show he watched last night with Yaku. The party could be awkward, or worse, Suga could hate him for not being his ideal dance partner and decide to go home before they even arrive. Daichi hates parties and hates ties even more, so how in the world-  
  
“Do you need some lube?” Suga asks him out of the blue.  
Daichi stops abruptly and makes a face. Why is Suga asking him about fricking _lube_?!  
“…Excuse me?” He croaks.  
Suga bursts out laughing, blushing a little because he realizes his mistake in choosing words. “I was just wondering if you needed something greasy. The gears in your head are louder than usual.” He quickly explains, not wanting to give the impression of having a dirty mind. Daichi stares in awe, takes in how the little mole rises to his eye when he smiles, and a little egoistic part of him thinks and hopes, _what if Suga’s most sparkling smiles are just for me?_  
  
“You know me too well.” Daichi rubs the back of his head, ashamed he was caught off guard that easily. “I was just overthinking things. Thanks for bringing me back to earth.” He jokes.  
“Well, that's what best friends are for, right?” Suga elbows him and laughs quietly.  
“Haha, right.”  
Daichi's soul is frozen, and he doesn't even try to say something intelligible because wow. Friendzoned on the spot. _Way to go._  
  
Suga immediately notices his unusual behavioral switch and immediately enters concerned mom mode. “Did I say something wrong? Oh.” He mechanically tilts his head. “Sorry, could it be I’m not your best fr-“  
“Hey, don't even say that!”  
Both boys stop in their tracks, Daichi's surprise as evident as Suga's. There’s disorientation in Suga’s eyes, and Daichi begins to sweat and thinks _oh not this shit agai_ n. But then again it couldn't possibly go any worse, fingers crossed, so why not try doing something even more stupid.  
  
“Look, Suga, you _are_ my best friend.” He blushes a little because _heck that's some schoolgirl shit right there._ “Your friendship is very valuable to me.” _Yeah, maybe being my boyfriend would be equally valuable, but if life gives you lemons you can’t make tomato sauce with it._ Daichi spends a few seconds trying to kick those weird thought out of his brain and to breathe regularly. "And I'm really glad that you accepted my offer, even though I don't exactly know how this is going to end because I'm a horrible dancer and I'm not a party animal either and perhaps it will be awkward- no it will probably be _very_ awkward but whatever uh the fact is- I'm really really really..." He inhales. Exhales. "...really happy right now. So, thanks for being my date, I guess."  
  
_Date._ He likes how that word rolls on his tongue.  
  
Suga listens to him, spellbound. He involuntary smiles again. His cheeks are already turning sore from all that straining and his stomach feels like he’s floating in space, but Daichi’s behavior is so endearing he can’t help feeling a bit giddy around him. "I’m happy too." He admits with a bashful glance in his friend’s direction.  
  
Daichi's smiling at him as well, tenderly, like he's in front of a basket full of cute kittens. Suga blushes profusely and steps on Daichi’s foot with all his weight, taking advantage of his gesture to avoid that loving expression that makes his insides melt.  
"Don’t look at me like that, you giant doofus." Suga laughs nervously, and before Daichi can reply he darts forward and starts running in the corridor, his back pack slamming against his back as he speeds up. “Come on, you owe me tortilla chips with chili!”  
  
"What- _Hey,_ you hurt me right in the feels!" Daichi yells, rushing after him. "You know I'm gonna get you!"  
“I’d like to see you try!” Suga whoops from the end of the corridor, before taking a sharp angle to the left and disappearing from Daichi’s sight.  
Daichi sighs and increases his speed. He feel sorry for Suga, underestimating his powerful leg muscles.  
  
  
  
Just as Daichi predicted, the race doesn’t last long. Hoping nobody will see or hear them, once he gets close enough Daichi throws himself at Suga in one final sprint and grabs him from the waist with a single arm, his bag falling on the ground in the concussion. Suga squeals, half indignantly and half laughing. He kicks blindly to get rid of him, but Daichi ignores his yelps and lifts him up in the air basically effortlessly like he saw doing in an old cartoon about lions, twirling a couple times in the empty corridor with his nose pressed against Suga’s back and finally putting him down after a few, breathless seconds of an impromptu wrestling performance with some heavily resentful sputtering from Suga’s behalf.  
  
Suga’s unsteady steps falters. His head spins like a throttle, and he wobbles so much he has to take a hold of Daichi's jacket if he doesn’t want to end up on the floor for the second time in a row. Daichi is as disoriented as him though, so he blindly follows his friend's grip while trying to balance himself again. If someone saw them, they would probably think they’re drunk.  
  
Suga feel his back knock against the wall and he gasps when he sees Daichi stumbling his way, fearing for a moment that he could crush him under his weight. Fortunately the taller male manages to stop by slamming his hands beside Suga's shoulders, whose owner freezes because of Daichi’s ragged, unsteady breath on face. Soon they’re sharing the same small amount of air, eyes quivering and unstable knees brushing.  
  
Time stops like Daichi's in one of the romance novels his mom always likes to read during relaxing evenings on the couch, except this time it isn't a novel, but real life. _God, Suga is so close-_ the beauty mark beside his eye is so alluring. Daichi just wants to grab this gorgeous boy’s face and kiss it. Him.  
  
Daichi can smell a faint but lovely aroma, like a fruity cologne. Is Suga using a cologne? He never noticed before. He doesn’t need it, he thinks, he remembers his delicate scent when he had to stay at his apartment for the night because of a raging thunderstorm and Suga left him his Suga-scented pillow. Maybe he just likes to use bath bombs, they’ve been getting popular lately.  
  
When the silver haired boy looks up at him, Daichi’s breath gets stuck in his throat. Suga is seriously so stunning, Daichi feels like he could stare at him for a whole day without ever getting tired. Cheesy as fuck, right? But that’s it.  
  
_I want to kiss you,_ Daichi thinks.  
  
He doesn’t.  
  
  
  
At last they move away with a bunch of 'sorry's and 'my fault's and after retrieving their bags from the floor they leave the campus behind. Their walk home is mostly silent, and when they reach Suga's apartment Daichi realizes it was a silly thing to do, that maybe he was too intrusive. He should really learn to keep his fricking hormones at bay, he’s not a horny teen anymore. He opens his mouth to apologize once again.  
  
In a blink of an eye, Suga shuts Daichi up by switching their usual goodbye with a quick hug and disappearing behind the door with a sly grin on his face. Daichi is left on his front door, feeling dumber than ever. He sharply exhales from his nose and turns on his heels, sticking his hands in his pockets. He could grab some ramen for dinner. It has been a long day.  
  
He takes a mental note to hire some sculptors because Kuroo really does deserve a golden statue. And a bitchslap for being so nosy and inappropriate all the time, but whatever.  
  
°°°°°  
  
“Don't you have to be somewhere else right now?”  
“Hm?” Bokuto stops humming to the beat of a pop song playing in his head and looks at Akaashi with big owlish eyes. “Can't I keep you company? Just tell me if it bothers you, I'll leave immediately!”  
  
“Nothing like that.” Akaashi kicks a tiny pebble on the sidewalk they've been walking on since afternoon classes ended. It's chilly outside, and the boy snuggles deeper in his warm khaki scarf to keep his nose from becoming red and ugly. “It's because you always hang out a lot with me lately. I wouldn't want you to skip study sessions because of this.” Akaashi looks at Bokuto with a sharp, cold glare. “You're not skipping study again, are you?”  
  
Bokuto squirms and gives him a guilty look, his thick eyebrows apologetically turning upwards. When he smiles tentatively, Akaashi sighs. “I knew it.”  
“I just wanna have some fun once in a while! Give me a break, Akaashi!” Bokuto whines. “College’s giving me a really hard time, I _need_ to have distractions…”  
  
Akaashi sighs again, with a strong urge to putting a hand on his shoulder and rub his worries away. A pout is already forming on Bokuto’s face, and Akaashi knows that If he doesn’t intervene immediately, the situation could get much worse.  
  
Chagrin quickly twists Bokuto’s facial features. Akaashi has learned, in their many years of knowing each other from high school, that when Bokuto goes aboard his emotional roller coaster he does it with his whole body. His precious golden eyes get rusty with shame, his stretched, lively mouth curves down, crestfallen. Akaashi can’t help but think that it’s funny, even his hair seems to deflate when he thinks he’s stupid, useless, annoying. But if there’s something Akaashi’s grown accustomed to, is how to operate his inner ride’s stop lever.  
  
The raven-haired boy holds his breath and rubs Bokuto’s slumped shoulders. “It’s fine. Don’t get sad over such trifle things.” He tries to reassure him, searching around in his pockets with his free hand and pulling out the keys to his car. Bokuto’s eyes dart upwards, caught in the movement. Akaashi presses a button on a little remote control and the lights of a dark, elegant car resting in a corner of the parking lot flash twice. “Let’s go.”  
  
Bokuto’s morale seems to perk up a little. “You never let me ride your car.” He says, incredulous. “You always say you’ll bury me alive if I spill milkshake on the seats.”  
Akaashi smirks slightly. “Consider yourself lucky, then.”  
  
Hearing those words, Bokuto brightens up and clasps their hands together without a second thought. “Akaashi, you’re the best! Where are we goin’?”  
“Getting you home.” Akaashi replies, a chill running down his spine because of Bokuto’s cold hands. Or his hands in general. “The last bus has already passed and it's getting dark, it's not safe to walk until there by yourself.”  
  
Bokuto groans in defeat, shutting his eyes and squeezing Akaashi’s fingers. “So you noticed, huh?”  
Akaashi gives him an amused look. "You’re not exactly _subtle_.”  
“Ehh, I can’t keep anything from you.”  
“It’s because I'm clever and you're not.”  
“Wha-!”  
  
Bokuto is more than ready to assure him that running home is a great exercise for his muscles and that no, he’s not dumb, just on another level of cleverness- when he remembers the reason why he asked his friend to have a walk with him after classes. Might as well try again.  
He lets go of him and steps back, trying to respect his personal space, while bracing himself for another failure.  
  
“Hey, Akaashi,” He begins, hiding his own hands in his pockets, “I know I’m kinda obsessed with this, but- Kuroo and Kenma are going to that party this Saturday, and like, I want to be there too, but I don't have any partner. I was wondering if you changed your mind about that.”  
  
Akaashi gulps, remembering his talk with Suga. _Don’t let him down, don’t let him down._  
“You can also go alone, you know. It's just common sense to attend with a partner, but you don't have neither.” He states, matter-of-factly. “So it’s okay.”  
  
_Goddammit, Keiji-_  
  
Bokuto's shoulders slump and a tiny “Oh.” that’s not like him at all escapes his mouth. “Okay. I see.”  
  
Akaashi sharply inhales. _There, you idiot._ “Actually.” He clarifies, reaching out to Bokuto's head and gently patting the back of his head. “Listen, uhm, I've changed my mind.” He mumbles, letting his finger rest on the skin under his nape hairline. Bokuto looks at him with wide eyes. “I'll go with you, so you won’t have to be lonely and feel miserable about it.”  
  
Bokuto instantly cheers up and grabs Akaashi's hand again, bright eyes sparkling. “Seriously?!”  
Akaashi nods once. Bokuto hoots in victory. “Hell yeah! Woo! Thank you!!” He hops up and down, making Akaashi’s arm move jerkily. “Gosh, wait until I tell Kuroo! He’s gonna be speechless!”  
  
“Boku- Bokuto, what are you doing- stop it.” Akaashi smiles a little, somehow affected by his friend's exaggerated happiness. “It’s nothing, really.”  
“It’s not nothing! It’s something really big actually and I can’t wait until it’s Saturday!!”  
  
Akaashi exhibits in one exasperated eye-roll and jingles his keys, making Bokuto jump to attention. He quickly salutes with a giant smile on his face. “Yes sir!”  
"If that’s okay with you, I’m taking you home.” Akaashi chooses his words carefully. “From today on."  
  
Bokuto cheers loudly and runs to the other side of the car, hopping in the passenger seat while fidgeting with anticipation. He buckles up, side-eyeing the pretty boy that's just entered the vehicle and that’s starting the engine with deft, porcelain hands. _So pretty! I’m so lucky I got to ask him out!_  
  
“Hey, I think you should wear that dress!” Bokuto casually says, glancing in his direction. He makes himself comfortable against the black leather covered seat by pulling it back a little, so that’s he’s half-seating, half-lying down.  
Akaashi’s knuckles turn white, as he grips the steering wheel with more strength than necessary. “Excuse me?” He says, his voice barely a whisper, looking at Bokuto.  
“That dress.” Bokuto coughs to clear his throat. “The green one you bought with Suga. It was really cute, I think it'd be perfect if you wore it on Saturday night!”  
“Oh.”  
  
Oh. Bokuto's flattering side's at it again.  
  
Akaashi feels the blush creeping up his cheeks as he pulls out of the parking lot smoothly, but refuses to give in to unnecessary feelings for the moment. “We’ll see about that.” Instead he shrugs the proposal off like it's no big deal, which it actually is, and presses on the gas pedal. “Hold tight, I'm pretty careless on the road.”  
“Pretty _and_ careless.” Bokuto corrects him, earning a snort from Akaashi. “I like it.”  
  
  
  
“It was cerulean blue, by the way.”  
“It was what?”  
  
  
°°°°°  
  
The fourth paper projectile flies across the room and hits Daichi right in his left eye. He’s been texting for an hour, laying face down on his bed, and everything was fine until Kuroo decided to annoy him by creating a goddamn blowgun out of his Calculus notes and shooting nasty spit-drenched paper balls in his direction.  
  
The huge dorky grin that’s been on Daichi’s face all day disappears as he winces and drops his phone to massage his aching eye. “Ouch!” He turns to curse Kuroo and his impressing but useless sniper skills. “That hurt like hell, what if I get blind! What’s your problem?”  
  
“You're groooooss.” He ears Kuroo drawl, who’s ironically skyping with his boyfriend in their small living room, leisurely sprawled on their couch while munching onion chips. His homemade blowpipe is resting beside him along with a sea of little paper balls, ready to be used. Daichi doesn’t have to get up to know that Kenma’s username is preceded and followed by a string of rainbow hearts. Just for the record.  
  
Kuroo leans towards his laptop screen where Kenma is looking at his nails, unbiased by all that fuss. He gives him an apologetic smirk. “Sorry babe, just a second.”  
“Yeah, yeah.”  
Kuroo blows him a kiss and grabs his weapon, then turns to put his forearm on the back of the couch and aims at Daichi, whose attention is drawn again to his phone. He closes one eye, takes a swift breath and fires. The projectile hits Daichi’s left cheek, right where he wanted to.  
“Yes!” He gloats.  
“ _Kuroo Tetsurou!_ ” Daichi roars.  
  
Kuroo snickers, loads another projectile and puts the blowgun down for future use. “Stop smiling, man, you're giving me the creeps.”  
“Shut up.” Daichi huffs, thumbs quickly pressing letters on the screen and sending in a message. “You’re no better than me.”  
  
_> Pick you up at eight tomorrow?_  
  
“At least I haven’t been waltzing around my love interest for what, 20 years now?” He retorts, with a wiseass expression. Daichi cover his phone and gives him a dirty look, as if Suga could hear.  
Thankfully, he doesn’t have to wait much before a notification pops up and stops him from insulting his roommate. He opens it and quickly takes in the content, flipping Kuroo and his blowgun off.  
  
_> Yes, my prince charming ;-)  
_  
“…”  
Daichi stares at the winking face for a while. _Is Suga high or something? Wait, I don’t want to know. I’ll just. Let this slide.  
_ He decides to drop the matter and ask him about his problematic relationship with Physics instead, when he senses a presence behind him that makes him jolt and sit up in half a second.  
  
Kuroo is leaning down on him, eyes glued to his conversation with Suga, very interested-looking. _When the hell did he get that close? I didn’t hear anything! He’s a ninja, what the hell!_  
Daichi immediately covers his phone screen, but it's obviously too late.  
Kuroo graces him with a smug sneer. "Neat, prince charming."  
"GET OUT!"  
  
°°°°°  
  
A red SUV stops in front of Suga's house at 7.55 pm. The sun has already set, a few businessmen, kids with their parents and women with heavy grocery shopping bags cross the road and scatter in different directions. As soon as he sees the lights inside the apartment flicker with human shadows, Daichi fiddles nervously with his phone and turns down the volume of his radio, unsure about what to do next. It's still a bit early, and he doesn't want to seem too pushy. Maybe he’ll just wait there until he comes down.  
  
While he ponders on the possibilities- _Should he open the car door for him, like a gentleman? Would it be too sappy?_ \- the boy he's nervously yet impatiently waiting for appears on the front door of his apartment, stopping for a second to pet his neighbor’s cat and putting his keys in his pockets. Suga's body is wrapped up in a long chestnut-colored coat, that seems excellent for keeping cold at bay, and also gives him the appearance of a burrito. Daichi chuckles. _A cute burrito, nonetheless.  
_  
Daichi briefly smiles from the driver's seat. He wipes his hands on his pants and checks his face out through the rear-view mirror. He's good-looking, he feels lucky. Suga approaches the car.  
_You can't possibly mess this party up._  
  
 “Good evening.” Daichi casually greets the silver-haired boy after he smiles at him and climbs in his seat, trying to keep his heartbeat on a leash. “Sorry, I came here a bit earlier, hope you don't mind.”  
“I don't mind, actually!” Suga radiates warmth as he speaks, as he rubs his hands together and breathes on them. Daichi swears to whatever god he could marry the guy, in that exact instant. “Mom was stressing me out on the phone,” Suga explains, “I needed a good excuse to slip out of her talons.”

Daichi chuckles and starts the engine. “Really? What was she annoying you with?”  
 “Well, she wouldn't stop asking me which girl I was going to this legendary college party with.” Suga says, scratching his cheek bashfully. “Can you believe me? I'm not a child anymore, I know what I'm doing!”  
Daichi freezes. “Ah… yeah.”  
  
He was right all along, Suga really did not want to go with him. Maybe he already had plans! How pathetic. _This is all Kuroo’s fault, I swear to g-_  
“But.” The silver haired boy sends Daichi a sly grin. “I guess she got disappointed. Too bad, hmm?”  
Daichi barks out a dry laugh. “You could’ve told me. I would've stepped off and left you free to go with whatever girl you wanted.”  
   
Suga slaps Daichi’s leg playfully and fastens his seatbelt. “'s fine, you big worrywart.”  
“Oh come on, what’s with you guys!” Daichi groans, sliding into the traffic. “First Kuroo with his ridiculous bagel-sized bazooka, and then you-”  
“Bagel what?” Suga snorts, putting a hand on his mouth.  
“Long story.”  
“Oh my god, please explain?”  
Daichi bites his lower lip and grins.  
  
  
  
After Daichi enlights Suga about the latest events involving his crazy roommate and Suga has laughed all his tears, the silver-haired boy begins fumbling with the radio to find a song that could help him get in the mood of the party. White noise fills the car for a second, then an upbeat pop song starts playing. It's not that long of a trip, but he knows better than staying silent.  
  
“Actually I thought you already had a partner, so I kinda. Kept quiet about it.” Suga admits with a bashful smile, bobbing his head slightly to the music. “Hey, I like this song.”  
Daichi almost slams his foot on the brakes. He looks at Suga in bewilderment. _Is this guy even real?_ “Sorry, what did you just say?”  
Suga looks at him, puzzled. “That I really like this song?”  
“No, no, before!” Daichi shakes his head, casting quick glances in his direction to avoid crashing against a road sign or something. “You wanted to ask me out? Me?” He asks, incredulously.  
“Well, duh?” Suga shrugs.  
“But why didn't you do it!” Daichi screeches.  
“Because I thought it would be weird? And kinda, uh.” Suga's voice gets faint, until it’s not audible anymore.  
“Kinda gay?”  
“Uhh. Yep.”  
  
Daichi wants to drive off a cliff for that comment, but thank goodness Suga laughs under his breath. His soothing voice seems to come straight from an angel chorus of heaven. “I don't mind being with you tonight, so don't worry. This will be our little secret.” He jokes, putting a finger on his lips and winking.  
“O- Okay.”  
  
Daichi taps his fingertips on the steering wheel, as if that could get the traffic lights to become green sooner, while the right hand rests under his thigh. His shoulders stiffen when he feels Suga's hand hovering in the space between them and lying comfortably on his forearm. “Are you ok?” He asks quietly. “You look sick.”  
  
“I’m fine. Don’t worry.” Daichi doesn't have the guts to tell him to move because he needs to grab the wheel but hell, he's willing to drive the whole way there at 15 miles per hour with a blindfold if he can have Suga's blessed hand touching him the whole ride. _Wow that sounded so wrong in more ways than one._ "Soooo, off we go. To the Greatest Ball Ever, don't get too excited." He announces, voice thick with sarcasm.  
Suga rolls his eyes. "You're such a party pooper." He reprimands his friend, earning a sarcastic remark on his behalf.  
  
By the time they reach the location Suga's hand has accidentally ended up on top of Daichi's, whose owner had moved it just a little to the right so that it would be more comfortable. Neither of them felt like complaining.  
Daichi wonders if the pit of hell he’s fallen into has an exit sign or something.  
  
°°°°°  
  
“Noooow we’re talking, you guys.”  
Kuroo is wearing a lazy smile that gets sly as he catches sight of his beloved roommate and Suga. He welcomes the pair with a long drawn slur and an empty plastic glass clutched in his fingers. Relaxing music is playing softly from the speakers. “Check out these sick beats. One hella rad party, huh?” He says sardonic, leaning with his hips against the drinks table, his unbuttoned shirt revealing a tight tank top, his hair incredibly messier than usual. He seems to be genuinely enjoying himself, now that he’s got someone to toy with.  
  
As soon as he sees Kuroo and his despicable self, Daichi has a sudden urge to either leave or smack him in the face. The idiot's already half drunk, and it's not even nine in the evening. No wonder Kenma left him to his own devices and stayed home playing videogames.  
  
Thankfully, Suga replies politely to Kuroo's blabbers and mischievous observations about the two of them being closer than a two meters distance and gently tugs on Daichi’s sleeve, urging him to get away from Kuroo, at least for the moment. His friend’s boiling rage is nothing to mess with, and he really wants Daichi to have fun after all.  
  
Suga tries to ease his tension by crossing their arms together, hoping it will help Daichi relax a little, even though he feels himself a bit on the edge. He rests one hand on his forearm, and Daichi lets him with a small, content sigh. The place is crowded with loud students, so it's not like they'll have to worry about some homophobic asshole picking on them or something. Besides, Suga already saw a few girls walking hand in hand, so it should be okay.  
It's not like they are together, after all. They’re just a… disgustingly sappy couple of friends. No homo.  
  
  
  
 The party turns out to be pretty fun. They spot Bokuto and Akaashi excitedly making small talk with a bunch of Art Majors (but mostly Bokuto), asking them about their last assignment and if they could see their works displayed in the city hall one day (Bokuto again). When their friends turn to greet them, Suga squeals in delight and rushes forward.  
  
Akaashi is really wearing the light blue dress they chose together, even though he seems still slightly uncomfortable walking around in feminine clothes. But he chose it nonetheless, and that’s enough for Suga to feel his chest swell with pride. “Wow, you should wear dresses more often! They look lovely on you!”  
“Thanks.” Akaashi lowers his gaze and smiles a little. “I will.”  
Suga nods and tucks a lock of Akaashi’s hair behind his ear. “That’s great~”  
  
“I know right! Akaashi’s sooooo pretty tonight!”  
“Hello to you, Bokuto.” Suga chuckles to Akaashi’s loud partner.  
“Hey hey heeey!” Bokuto gulps down another alcoholic shot and loosely rests his arm around Akaashi's waist. “Cool party, huh. They snuck in the booze! I’m so damn grateful.”  
  
“You won’t be as grateful when you’ll end up in ethylic coma.” Akaashi scolds him, graciously furrowing his brows. He softly pushes down the hand in which Bokuto’s holding his glass. “Take a break, this is your third drink already.”  
Bokuto literally beams at him and squeezes his side. “Oh my god, you’re an angel, Akaashi!”  
Akaashi rolls his eyes. “Yes, well, somebody has to look after the children.”  
  
Daichi and Suga watch interact talk for a while, satisfied with just observing their different behaviors and how they click together so well. Even though they’re on a totally whole different level of character, they seem to be comfortable enough around each other not to let their casual touches become embarrassing or inappropriate.  
Except for once, when Bokuto's hand accidentally falls on Akaashi’s ass and even more accidentally doesn’t leave its fortuitous position.  
  
"I'm taking this idiot home in two minutes." Akaashi hisses, pulling down the hem of his dress.  
"But your butt is so cu-te!" Bokuto whines loudly, stumbling on the vowels.  
Akaashi blushes. "Stop it, you're drunk." He tries to defend himself. Suga has never seen him so flustered, poor boy.  
"And yooou'rre beautifuul~" Bokuto howls, planting a kiss on Akaashi's cheek as delicately as he can, which is not much seeing how tipsy he already is. The peck turns out to be sloppy and clumsy, but at least he tries.  
Suga and Daichi laugh at Akaashi's easily noticeable embarrassed expression as his pale skin darkens more, so close that their elbows brush together.  
  
  
  
They depart after having a few drinks with arguable flavors and exchanging a bunch of gossips from around the college, wanting to explore the room a bit more. As soon as they leave Akaashi to his inauspicious fate, even though with a hint of regret, Suga flashes Daichi a little coy, reassuring smile. His hand hangs open between them in a silent request, which Daichi is more than happy to give an answer to. So they hold hands again, and because it feels a bit awkward they look in different directions, but don’t let go.  
  
Soft music is playing in the background. They walk through the crowd for a while, their movements more fluids now that they’re linked and sure they won’t lose each other. Suga giggles when Daichi makes a quick observation in his ear about a dude with ridiculous pineapple hair. “If we get in a fight it will only be your fault.” He chuckles.  
“So what?” Daichi expresses blatantly his lack of interest by shrugging the matter off. “As long as I’m with you, I’m fine either way.”  
  
They keep walking aimlessly until they find a nice spot to chill without being an impediment for the couples that are beginning to dance together, swaying to the dim light of the colorful light bulbs hanging from the ceiling.  
  
Daichi grabs another empty glass, unwillingly letting go of Suga’s hand so he can fill it with water, and drinks it. When Suga looks at him interrogatively, Daichi shrugs. “I’ve read somewhere that drinking non-alcoholic stuff can help you lower the alcohol rate in your blood, or something like that.”  
“Amazing.” Suga blinks, astonished. “How responsible of you. Are you trying to impress someone?” He jokes.  
“Well, I have to get you home safe and sound.” Daichi shrugs again, putting down the glass. “Ordinary administration, I guess?”  
_He wants me to be safe. Daichi worries about me._ “I guess.” He smiles softly. “Thanks.”  
  
Daichi smiles back. Then, his eyes dart upwards, clouded with concern, and as fast as lightning he grabs Suga’s arm and moves him behind him. Suga stumbles, following his iron grip, and peeks from his shoulders, alarmed, to see what’s going on. A very intoxicated guy has just wobbled to where Daichi’s standing and is trying to get beyond him, to no avail. He smells of weed and looks pissed off.  
  
“Move the fuck away man, y’re in my way.” The guy babbles, aggressively. His nasty breath reminds Daichi of the world’s filth reunited in one loathsome human being.  
“Why?” Daichi asks in a firm voice, not moving a millimeter.  
“His ass.” The guy points in Suga’s direction with his chin. Suga shivers, feeling naked. Cold sweat runs down his forehead. “C’mon pal, I haven’t got laid since last week. I need a slut. He’s sexy. We can both fuck him if ya want, eh?”  
  
Daichi grimaces, disgusted to the bone and beyond. “I don’t know how wasted you are and I honestly don’t give a fuck, but let me get this straight for you.” He speaks slowly, making sure he gets every single hatred-drenched syllable that leave his dry mouth.  “First of all he’s with me, so keep your filthy hands away from him. Second, call him that again and I’ll snap your neck. Third, a birdie left me with a message for you.” He gets closer to the guy and smiles. _“Fuck. Off.”_  
  
Their hasty exchange doesn’t last long, thankfully. A bunch of people in their twenties grabs the guy by his armpits right after he reacts violently to Daichi’s words and tries to punch him square on his mouth. They say they meant no harm, but he fled from their control before they had the chance to take him away from the party. Daichi assures them it’s nothing and dismisses the group with irritation still lingering on his skin.  
  
How could he have let this happen to Suga? That must have been horrible, for him in particular. Daichi feels dirty. He clenches his jaw, turning to the silver-haired boy even though he doesn’t really know what to say. He needs to apologize, somehow.  
  
Suga hugs him like there’s no tomorrow, making Daichi suck in a mouthful of air. He clings to him, resting his forehead against his shoulder, biting his lip and letting out a shaky breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Daichi…”  
“Oh. Hey.” Daichi rubs his back soothingly, feeling his muscles relax. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”  
He’s not crying, but Suga wipes his eyes anyway. “Thank you. I got a bit scared.” He admits. “Thank you, Daichi.”  
“No problem, really.” Daichi chuckles, embarrassed and a bit flattered. Suga smiles quietly, feeling a bit calmer just by listening to Daichi’s heartbeat under his ear shell.  
  
They spend the following five minutes like that, hugging and not caring about indiscreet glances  thrown in their way. Suga hopes Daichi doesn't mind staying so close, his body feels strong and comfortable against his own. He looks at the students dancing from over Daichi’s shoulder, then pulls back to glance at the taller boy still holding him loosely by his waist. Daichi exchanges his stare, baffled. “Is something wrong?”  
  
Suga gulps, feeling his hand quivering. Is it too early? Should he make his move now? It’s getting kinda late, and he really wants to have a dance with Daichi. That’s what the party’s all about after all, right? He mentally chides himself and his stupid crush. _Stop being a chicken and go for it._

Suga glances at Daichi. The latter gets stiff as a broom as he feels him shift, but his lips are curved upwards in the dorkiest expression Suga’s ever seen. Moreover he’s still holding him in his arms. _Whoa, what a dream._ Suga feels so lucky as he looks at him in all his handsomeness. By the way he crosses Daichi’s eyes and feels his mouth curves in response, Suga feels like he could kiss him.  
  
He does.  
  
Suga doesn't know how in the world he finds the guts to do it, but he kisses Daichi anyway, standing slightly on his tiptoes to reach for his face better. Actually he kisses him on his jaw bone, but his lips linger there for a bit longer than they'd do if this was a everyday situation. Not that they are used to do that kind of thing on a daily basis, but still…  
His fingers slightly brush Daichi’s neck and cup his face.  Suga closes his eyes. It feels right.  
  
When Suga pulls back, his palms are getting increasingly sweatier, and it seems like a battalion of grass hoppers is marching in his stomach. Heat rushes up Daichi's neck and cheeks, and even though he feels on fire he doesn't let go of Suga's hand, which he unconsciously grabbed at some point back then, during their clumsy half-kiss.  
  
When Daichi tries to speak a strangled sound comes awkwardly out of his throat, so he promptly shuts his mouth to spare himself a few bad impressions in a moment that was supposed to be romantic. Supposed.  
  
Suga's eyes crinkle at the corners. At first there’s only a choked snort, then two. Then he's giggling like mad, hiding his teeth behind his hand as if trying to suppress those awkward piglet-like noises that come out of his mouth when he laughs too loud. “That's amazing, you sounded like a duck right now!”  
  
Daichi flares up even more. _Way to ruin everything. Congrats, me._ “It's your fault, doing things like that out of the blue!”  
“But you didn't move away, right?” Suga exaggeratedly wiggles his eyebrows. “My investigator abilities are telling me that you actually enjoyed it. Am I right, Mr. Watson?”  
Daichi huffs, squeezing his hand. “Don’t be a smart little shit.”  
  
“Welp, I guess I kinda like you, after all.” Suga admits suddenly, glancing sideways.  
_What._ "Whoa there. Halt." Daichi can feel the blood thumping in his fingertips. _Oooh my god this is it. This is it._ "Did Kuroo slip you something hallucinogenic? Are you okay?"  
“Never been better.” Suga smiles bashfully. Pink is dusting his cheek as his eyes flicker from Daichi, to the hall, and back to him. “Do you think we could, uh, have one dance before we leave?”  
“Er, sure.”  
  
Daichi gulps as Suga pulls himself back and lets go of his hand, that feels once more painstakingly cold. He looks at Suga’s back as he makes his way into the crowd. There’s his chance.  _Screw up on this, and you screw up on the world.  
_  
“Oh!” Suga turns to him, as if he’s remembered something important. Daichi lifts an eyebrow, but his perplexity gives place to a warm bubbling feeling in his belly as Suga smiles sweetly and adjusts Daichi’s tie with careful and concise movements. “You tied it wrong.”  
Daichi snorts. “But mooom.”  
“No buts. “ Suga chuckles, kindly patting his shoulder. “Let’s get ridiculous together.” He then murmurs.  
Daichi's lips stir in a crooked smile. He’s fallen in too deep. “I’m in.”  
  
  
  
“Hey hey, bro!” Bokuto pokes Kuroo in his arm, pointing excitedly towards the crowd. “They’re going! We gotta move!”  
Kuroo’s head perks up. A mischievous smirk slowly appears on his face. “Oho?” He says, suddenly losing interest in the blonde girl he was chatting with. He takes his sweet time combing his messy hair back and stretching the collar of his shirt for good measure, while she watches him in awe. His eyes narrow like a predator’s. “So it’s time.”  
  
Bokuto hoots triumphantly and hooks arms with Akaashi, beaming. “Let’s go, Akaashi! We have a mission!”  
Akaashi groans, yanked around by Bokuto’s unbelievable strength. “Not again.”  
“Hell yeah.” Kuroo puts his empty glass back on the table and sends the girl a killer smile. “Sorry honey, I gotta go. I’m gay and taken, anyway.”  
  
As the lady watches all her hopes of hooking up that hot guy getting utterly wrecked, Bokuto urges Kuroo to follow him. “C’mon bro, we gotta take photos!”  
“I got your back, man.”  
  
  
  
At first, it _really_ is embarrassing. They don’t even know where to put their hands, so they spend their first minutes of being in close contact with each other trying to figure out what to do and where to look and how to move their feet. After spying on other couples they somehow grasp the basics of slow dancing. Suga puts his hands on the taller boy’s shoulders, while Daichi’s rest on the curve of his friend’s hips.  
  
“By the way, sorry if I step on your feet.” Suga chuckles, a bit unsure about his next move. He curls and uncurls his fingers around Daichi’s shirt, who’s looking amused and not afraid of having his feet squashed. “Sooo, what now?”  
“We just… move around?” Daichi replies, uncertain as well. He moves a step to his right, and when Suga mimics him, he makes another to the left. Suga does the same. Then another to the right, and Suga imitates him again. Then to the left. Right. Left.  
  
Shortly, they’re swaying to the silky notes of the music. They don’t even dare try breaking the silence, it’s just them and sweaty hands and stolen little glances when they think the other one isn’t watching. The first time his right foot his suddenly pressed down, Suga slightly winces. _Daichi really is heavy_. He laughs quietly, because he really thought he would have been the first to step on him, and not the other way around. Daichi panics and tries to apologize, but Suga blows a soft “ssssh” inviting him to keep quiet for a little while as he enjoys the moment.  
  
Daichi’s voice is hushed when he breaks the silence. “Wow, that’s easy.” He’s astonished by how worked up he got for such a simple thing such as slow dancing. “But I still think it’s stupid.”  
Suga grins cheekily, and coordinates his tiny steps with Daichi’s. “I don’t know. I may be actually enjoying this.”  
  
Daichi lifts an eyebrow. “You do? I didn’t know you were a dance-y person.”  
“And to think that I still haven’t stepped on your feet.” Suga says nonchalantly. “I must be such a skilled dancer.”  
Daichi mumbles an apology about earlier between gritted teeth, making Suga snicker. The shorter boy shakes his head and lowers his eyes, down to Daichi’s chest. “But I really like goofing around with you. Wait, this is getting uncomfortable, let me-”  
“Mh?”  
  
Suga moves his hands up and encircles Daichi’s neck with both his arms, resting his head against the latter’s shoulder the same way he did before. He should have a good excuse for not making eye contact with him, at least for a little while.  
  
Daichi gasps at the sudden turn of events, which is not entirely revolting but not entirely pleasurable either. His long-life crush is basically cuddled up against his chest and Daichi swears he can almost hear him purring. He vows that if he doesn’t get a heart attack right there he will pay all his debts to Kuroo, help every granny in his city cross the road and do voluntary work 24/7. It’s just too incredible to be true.  
  
“Suga. Can you hear me?” Daichi whispers, sliding a hand across the silver haired boy’s back. _So slender._  
When Suga hums affirmatively on his collarbone, Daichi takes a deep breath. There goes nothing. “I uh. I, like, like you too.”  
“Hmm.” Suga snuggles even closer, if possible. A lazy, satisfied smile takes shape on his face, half hidden in Daichi's neck. “Yay.” He quietly mumbles. “About time, eh.”  
  
Daichi, who's internally screaming, furrows his brows. “Wh- Why are you not complaining or something?”  
Suga lifts begrudgingly his head from its comfortable nest. “Why should I?”  
“Because this is...” Daichi bites his lower lip. “This is weird.”  
“Ah.” Suga’s heart stops beating. Could it be he misunderstood? “You- You think?”  
  
“Yes. Wait, no, that's not what I meant-“ Daichi stutters. He stops moving. They’re staring at each other now. “Look, it's just strange, but a good kind of strange, alright? We, like… confessed.” _Did we really do that oh man ohhh man_ “No, we totally confessed to each other without beating an eye and you didn’t think it was unnatural, and neither did I, and." He stops to take a look at their intertwined limbs and chuckles. How come their hands keep attracting each other like magnets that night? “And we're slow dancing among a bunch of gross couples holding hands like a gross couple. Still think it’s not weird, or should I make a power point presentation?"  
  
Suga closes his eyes and starts laughing, throwing his head back and grasping Daichi's shirt to avoid falling on the ground. "Oh my god!” He cries, “That's pretty much gay, if you ask me."  
“Captain Obvious. Whoops-” Daichi grabs Suga's elbows and helps him dodge a drunk, hyperactive girl thrown in their way. “It’s not like I have anything to lose. Apart from my manly pride."  
“You nerd.” Suga snickers, cozily indulging in his warmth. “Don’t underestimate my manhood.”  
Daichi rolls his eyes and runs his thumb over Suga’s velvet skin. “Yeah, right.”  
  
  
  
Next thing they know, Bokuto is slapping them both on their shoulders with the frequency of three hits per second and with way too much energy, asking when's the marriage. Daichi and Suga step away, startled and blushing profusely. Daichi’s forehead is crossed by a vein who looks about to pop.  
“You…”  
  
“Nice.” Kuroo whistles appreciatively a few feet away while swiping the thumb on his phone. A bunch of pictures featuring Daichi and Suga dancing are thoroughly being examined by his expert eye, the best ones being saved in his memory card. “These are _so_ going on my instagram.” He mewls, moving his arm around to snatch some free wifi.  
  
Suga is swift when it comes to stop Daichi from beating up Kuroo’s ugly face. He doesn't try to block him, since he's fully aware of Daichi's strong muscles –oh if he’s aware, those alluring biceps bulging under his shirt when he takes his books out of his locker-, instead he puts a hand on his shoulder and asks him to breathe deeply. “Stop being so hot-headed, Daichi! If it bothers you, ask him politely before trying to bite his head off.”  
  
“Boyfriend wisdom, Daichi!” Kuroo sneers, logging on Instagram and tapping away at his phone. Bokuto peeks at what he’s doing while Akaashi tries to pull him away. “#grosscoupleoftheyear #getaroom #stopPDA2k15- Sounds good? Should I tag you, maybe?”  
  
“You're dead to me.” Daichi snaps. He’s done with his bullshit. He sends a poisonous glare in Kuroo's direction and grabs Suga's forearm with a bit too much strength. “Let’s go, I need some fresh air.” He sharply explains.  
Suga cringes slightly, but nods nonetheless. “O-okay, after you.”  
They make their way into the crowd, Suga briefly turning to look at Kuroo apologetically, then head to the dresser room to retrieve their jackets, until they disappear from sight.  
  
Kuroo stares at their backs getting smaller and smaller and huffs, slipping his phone back in his pocket with a mild expression. He closes his eyes for a moment, and when he reopens them, there’s no trace of malice left in his gaze. His smile is genuine.  
“Oh man, why did you erase them? Those were great!” Bokuto wails, receiving a punch on the head from Akaashi. Kuroo shrugs and combs his dark hair back. He's really too kind.  
  
  
°°°°°  
  
When the chilly air hits their faces, Suga shivers from head to toe and clings at Daichi's arm for dear life. He feels so cold that his teeth begin to clatter. _How is the weather so freezing?_ _It’s almost spring! Maybe I shouldn’t have put my winter jacket away…  
_ Daichi sends him an amused glance. “I’m sorry I dragged you out here without asking. I don't feel like partying anymore.” He grimaces. “Or staying under the same roof as that jerk.”  
  
“Running out of stamina already?” Suga chuckles, before blowing a puff of hot air in the frigid night. “It’s okay, though. Kuroo can be really tiring, sometimes.”  
“More like damn always.” Daichi puts both hands in his jacket pockets and mutters something offensive under his breath. He looks down at Suga, who’s checking if he forgot anything back at the party. “So, do you wanna go home? I can give you a lift.”  
  
“Oh, sure!” Suga nods gratefully. It’s true, it’s not that late, and he had to walk through darker streets when he had a part-time job at the convenience store after an evening shift, but he feels safer if he has the lucky chance to go back with someone. With Daichi, especially. Gosh, Suga’s sure his friend could take down a bunch of bullies with just his intimidating stare.  
The silver haired boy jingles the keys to his apartment (thank God his most valuable goods are still with him) and smiles brightly. “Sure. Thanks.”  
Daichi nods. “Not at all.”  
  
  
  
Their short trip back is rather energetic, the both of them commenting on their encounter with the wasted guy from earlier, cracking jokes about how stoned Bokuto was already and chattering about the exams they’ll have in a few days.  
Daichi glances at Suga’s apartment looming on their left and quickly turns his head away, hoping that maybe if he gives the impression of having stopped for whatever reason that’s not the fact they arrived too soon, they won’t have to say goodbye yet.  
  
“You sure you don’t want any help with Physics?” Daichi asks. He pulls the brakes, and the car’s wheels come to a halt. “I could give you a hand. I’m pretty good at it, you know?”  
“Are you fishing for compliments?” Suga jokes. He knows he’s already at his destination, but he tries to ignore his surroundings nonetheless.  
Daichi pouts indignantly. “Rude.”  
“Oh come on, I’m just kidding!” Suga puts a hand on his seat to lift himself and be on his eye level and turns to Daichi. “Okay, listen. You enlighten my plebeian brain with your superior knowledge on that subject of doom,” Daichi snorts, “and I’ll treat you to coffee. Deal?”  
  
“I kinda like how that sounds.” Daichi puts his elbow on the steering wheel and looks at him. A fond, yet sly smile curves his lips. He doesn’t feel as tense as he was just a few hours earlier. It’s like his self-confidence is being busted from every little touch and word he gets from him. “Are you asking me out, Suga?”  
“Maybe.” Suga says in a mocking tone. “There’s a new coffee shop near the station that opened last week. I heard the waiters are really cute, too.” He adds, looking out casually.  
Daichi’s eyebrows twitch. _What a little shit._ “Really.” He says, unimpressed.  
Suga whistles. Daichi sneers.  
“…You’ll pay for that.”  
  
His hand quickly undoes his seatbelt, and before his brain has a chance to react he runs to the other side, opens the car door, grabs Suga by his armpits and drags him out in the cold night. Suga yelps as he’s being lifted up so high his feet can’t reach the ground anymore.  
“Oooh, let me down!”  
“Nope.” Daichi deadpans. “You’re ticklish, aren’t you?”  
Suga’s eyes widen. “Oh no you don’t- pffthahhahaHAHAHDAICHI _STOPIT!_ ”  
  
  
  
Daichi feels dizzy with intoxicating joy as he hears Suga’s laugh echoing in his ears. When he decides to put him down, Suga is pressed against him in a tight hug Daichi doesn’t want to see the end of. “Daichi, are you insane?!” Suga protests against his coat’s fabric, even if a bit dazzled by his friend’s abnormal behavior. He can’t say he dislikes this carefree side of him, though. It’s charming.  
  
Daichi grins like an idiot and squeezes him in his arms. He couldn’t stop even if he wanted to, even if Suga’s parents were there on the doorsteps, even if Kuroo jumped out of the bushes and shot him with his paper blowgun, even if it began pouring and they got drenched with water.  
  
In that tiny fraction of space and time, everything clicks into place.  
Everything’s fine.  
  
  
“I love you.”  
  
  
Suga gasps, his eyes flash wide open. “Uh?”  
“…Ah.”  
Daichi looks down, his throat feels dry like sandpaper. “I’m sorry,” He croaks, unable to look at him. His eyes are glued to the ground. “but, I can’t keep this from you- and from myself anymore. I think it’s time for you to know.” He admits.  
Realization about what he’s actually done hits him like a train, and he begins rambling. _I’m digging my own grave. I’m sinking deeper with every word._ His hands get cold with sweat. His scarf gets tighter around his neck, trying to strangle his pathetic attempts to save what’s left of their friendship. “Fuck, I didn’t mean to- You shouldn’t have heard that- Oh fuck shit I’m sor-”  
  
“Daichi.” Suga’s voice is firm but gentle. Caring, as he always is around him. Suga feels his cheeks burning, but forces himself to keep talking. He fiddles with his keys. He can’t keep a smile from slowly forming on his face. When he speaks again, his voice is thinner than a linen thread. “You shouldn’t worry, you know. The thing is, er.” He bites his lip. “Mutual.”  
  
“…whoa. What, you.” Daichi barks out a laugh, incredulous. “Are you kidding me?”  
Suga traces imaginary lines with his left foot on the ground. “If I were, do you think I would’ve accepted your invitation to the cheesiest party ever just like that?” He chuckles to himself, “Or let you hold my hand? Or slow dance with me?”  
“I… I see.” Daichi gulps. “That’s reasonable.”  
“Right.” Suga peeks at him from under his bangs. “So… do you believe me now?”  
“Y-Yeah.”  
  
Daichi’s heart has never been on the verge of stopping in his entire life, but now he knows what it feels like dying and coming to life again. He makes a mental note to go pay his doctor a courtesy visit as soon as possible to check his pulse, heartbeat rate, lungs capacity and ask him about other cases of jelly legs in his patients, because he almost feels like every last drop of his blood has been drained from every single vein in his body and forcefully pumped to his head all at once when Suga slides his chilly hands past his scarf, up his neck and carefully brings him down to give him a kiss.  
  
  
This time, to Daichi’s delight, it’s not on his cheek.  
  
  
Their mouths are chapped due to having been exposed to the cold air for a while, but neither of them have enough rationality left to bring themselves to care about anything that doesn’t involve sweetly rubbing their lips together while they shyly taste each other for the first time. Daichi’s eyes flutter close as he tries to breathe through his nose and fails in giving his brain orders. He just hopes his legs won’t give up on him. It would be awkward to faint in a moment like that, wouldn’t it?  
  
They kiss softly for a few seconds staying still, silently, both amazed at how everything’s coming unexpectedly natural, even though it’s something none of them has any kind of experience with.  
Suga can feel Daichi smiling dumbly in the kiss, and he doesn’t feel like calling him a dork because he’s pretty sure he’s doing the same, if not worse. Suga’s fingers grasp at Daichi’s short undercut, unsure about what to do, until they decide to slide down his neck and lay on Daichi’s shoulders.  
  
When his heartbeat reaches alarming frequencies, Daichi carefully pulls back from Suga. His trembling thumb hovers over Suga’s cute beauty mark under his left eye, and for a while the both of them are lost, taking in all the little details about each other’s faces, like the golden flecks in Suga’s eyes or the darker ones in Daichi’s, that wouldn’t be visible otherwise. Suga smiles fondly and presses his forehead to Daichi’s, sighing contently. They stay like that for a while. Night birds chirp softly.  
  
  
  
“Aw, I owe Akaashi five bucks.” Suga finally whispers, straightening his back and wiping his sweaty hands on his pants. “He was so sure we would get a date before the end of midterms, and well, it was so tempting.”  
“Hey, shame on you.” Daichi chuckles, still trying to catch his breath.  
“I’m kinda grateful I’ve lost, though?” Suga bites his lip again. His hand stretches and touches Daichi’s. The black-haired boy grabs it gently, earning a disgusted face from Suga. “Ew, you’re sweaty.”  
Daichi smiles at him lovingly. “ _You_ are sweaty.” He retorts.  
“Am not.”  
“I’ll hold your hand when I’m sweaty, okay?”  
Suga makes a face. “Eeeeww, no!”  
“So you don’t want to hold my hand?”  
“That’s not what I’m trying to say and you know it!”  
“You totally don’t want to hold my hand.”  
“I’m not holding your hand anymore, you huge jerk.”  
“Whatever you say, sweaty boy.” Daichi grins, squeezing.  
Suga groans.  
  
  
  
They exchange another few words on Suga’s front porch, their cheeks still glowing red with cold air and embarrassment, but unable to say goodnight yet. When Suga stifles his third yawn, Daichi pulls out his phone from his pocket and takes a look at the screen. He gasps quietly. It’s blinking 01:43, and he really isn’t expecting it to be that late. For his sanity’s sake, he decides to end their evening there. There shall be other occasions, after all.  
  
“Hey, now go inside or you’ll never wake up.” He gently urges Suga.  
Suga scoffs a bit. “I could sleep for 48 hours, if I wanted to.”  
“Yeah, like you’d miss any morning classes.”  
“Heey.”  
  
Daichi smiles when he feels the silver haired boy’s fingers rebelliously wiggling and adjusting themselves to his loose grip. “So… we’re dating now?”  
“Maybe.” Suga’s replies is soft and somewhat mocking. “If I can pass my exams, sure thing.”  
“You better treat me to the best coffee in the world, then.” Daichi mumbles, making Suga giggle.  
  
Suga lets Daichi lean down for another brief kiss, meeting him halfway. It’s just a tender touch of lips on lips, but he’s infinitely disappointed when Daichi pulls back.  
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Daichi whispers, squeezing his hands.  
Suga nods and swings their linked arms playfully. “You have my phone number, so you better make a good use of it.”  
“You’ll regret not cleaning your message chronology when your mom checks it.” Daichi jokes. He ignores Suga’s protests of “she doesn’t know my block code” and takes a single moment to place a little kiss on Suga’s forehead, which the silver-haired boy accepts willingly.  
  
He’s gone with his car after a second, before he can have a chance to think and get back to the Sugawara apartment and, probably, do something stupid. Daichi huffs and turns left. It’s not like he has been _that_ brilliant during the evening, but well.  
  
°°°°°  
  
It’s two in the morning when he finally manages to open the door with excitedly shivering hands, carelessly throws his clothes on the plastic chair and falls on his bed, not bothering to wear anything else other than his boxers. Kuroo’s still not back, he’s probably gone to check on Kenma and his videogames, but he couldn’t give a damn. Instead, he’s relieved. It wouldn’t be appropriate for him to get caught squealing like a fourteen years old.  
  
With his heart swelling, Daichi swipes his phone unlocked and grins widely as he sees a message notification in the bottom right corner of his screen. He opens it quickly and regrets doing so immediately. The dorkiness level in it is unacceptable.  
  
_> Maybe we should meet in, like, four hours. Miss you already :B_  
  
His heart beats three times faster as he types out an answer and buries his head in his pillow right afterwards. Sugawara Koushi should be illegal.  
  
The reply comes instantly in Suga’s inbox, emitting a low bell-like sound that rings loudly in the nerve-wrecking silence of his bedroom. Suga hugs his pillow and smiles lovingly as he reads Daichi’s first of many messages to come.  
  
_> Just watch me._  


**Author's Note:**

> (Btw I'm also Whiskerin on tumblr if you want to say hi)


End file.
